


The Silver Trio

by Glade



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Harry starts acting strangely..., Pranks!, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Slytherin Ron Weasley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2018-10-18 03:26:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10608324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glade/pseuds/Glade
Summary: Harry, Ron and Hermione get sorted into Slytherin. Be afraid. Be very afraid.This is NOT going to be worked on all that often (the awesome foursome are my focus, this just refused to leve me along until I started it)





	1. Sorting

The hat took one look in Hermione’s head, saw the determination to be remembered, the drive to make her mark on wizarding history, and called her a “SLYTHERIN!” Never mind that she was muggle born, never mind that she didn’t have the years of training of pureblood etiquette, Hermione Granger was going to be a force to be reckoned with.

 

“Potter, Harry!” was harder to sort.

“You could be great, you know, it’s all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness.”

Harry paused. He’d never considered being great before. Years of hiding, of making himself smaller than the Dursleys, a lesser target had brainwashed him into submission. Yet here was a hat, telling him that he could be great. He straightened from his habitual slouch, and thought “Yes, please,” firmly to the hat.

He could’ve sworn the hat grinned (mentally, of course), as it said “I look forward to seeing what you become, Mr Potter. SLYTHERIN!”

As Harry headed to the Slytherin table, he heard the sound of shattering glass- loud in the complete silence, and looked up at the High Table to see the Professor on one end- sallow skinned and black hair- hastily mutter a charm and wave his wand at his broken wineglass.

 

 

The hat nearly made a disastrous mistake when sorting “Weasley, Ronald!” It took one look at the Weasley flame-red hair, and had opened its mouth to shout “GRYFFINDOR!” when it paused to look more deeply into this Weasley’s head. “Hmm, you are interesting. You want to be out from under your brothers shadows, well there’s an easy way to do that. Oh don’t be silly, ambition isn’t always bad. I made that mistake with your brother, I won’t do it again here. SLYTHERIN!”

The silence wasn’t so complete this time, but the entire room was certainly still shocked that a Weasley could be sorted into the snake’s den.


	2. Potions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Snape is concerned about his prized first years, but no-one else is.

By the time potions class for the first years rolled around, Professor Snape had heard about his three star students-

Professor McGonagall waxed lyrical about Granger’s ability to replicate a spell after just one demonstration, about how she understood the subtleties in wand waving and spell pronunciation and could spot subtle mistakes in other students work which could cause the spell to fail.

Professor Flitwick was particularly enamoured of Potter, who practised harder than any other student the teacher could ever remember teaching until he had the spell down perfectly and could cast any spell almost before his brain recognised the need for it.

And the headmaster had told the staff at least five times about how Weasley had convinced Professor Binns to move on within 10 minutes of the first lesson.

Exactly why no-one else saw these events the same way as Professor Snape- that is to say with extreme caution, Professor Snape wasn’t sure. At least he’d managed to talk the headmaster into hiring Lupin as the new History of Magic lecturer. He had no love for the werewolf, but Lupin should hopefully be a confidant for Potter, and by extension Weasley and Granger.

 

 

Professor Snape strode into his classroom determined to test a theory about Granger. After all, if she understood the subtleties of transfiguration, then potion making should be right up her alley, worrying Professor Snape alarmingly.

And indeed, the girl was hanging off his every word when he started talking about the ‘subtle science and exact art of potion making.’

“Tell me Potter, what is the difference between monkswood and wolfsbane?”

As expected, Potter didn’t have a clue. The fact that Granger had her hand in the air didn’t necessarily mean anything, after all, aconite was mentioned in their first year text.

“Let’s try again then. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

Potter again shrugged. Professor Snape again ignored Granger’s hand, and asked the final question.

“Third time lucky maybe; what would you get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Potter clearly didn’t have a clue, but Granger did, going by the fact she had just stood up, hand pointed directly at the ceiling. Unwilling to believe she actually knew the answer, Professor Snape turned to her and ordered her to sit down, glancing at her surface thoughts. He nearly lost his train of thought when he realised she actually knew the theory behind a _seventh year poison_ , but narrowly held onto it.


	3. Restricted Section

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron convinves Professor Lupin to give the three of them unlimited access to the Restricted Section

That weekend, Harry found Hermione already in the library, almost piled under dusty, thick tomes.

Harry flicked the first page open to read the title, then let the book fall again.

“Pureblood etiquette?” he asked, one eyebrow raised. “I thought you didn’t want to start acting like Malfoy Jnr.”

“I don’t,” Hermione replied distractedly, not taking her eyes off the page, “but I want to know what I’m not doing that annoys them so much.”

Harry “hmm”ed as he pulled out his latest book- _A beginner’s guide to greatness- 1,001 tips, tricks and spells and what to do with them_ , and settled down next to her to read, occasionally jotting down a note from the book.

Ron ran in a few hours later, robes flapping open as usual, a piece of parchment clutched in his hand. “Got it!” he yelled triumphantly as he spotted the others. “Oops, sorry Madam Pince,” he said apologetically to the librarian,  who sniffed sternly but turned away to sort a pile of books.

Hermione peered eagerly at the note. “Really? How did you manage that?” she asked, smoothing it out.

“Wouldn’t you just love to know,” Ron grinned at her, rocking back on his chair. Harry picked up the note when Hermione finished smoothing it to look at it himself.

“ _I, Professor Lupin hereby give Miss Granger, Mr Potter and Mr Weasley permission to use the Restricted Section.”_

“Wow, nice one Ron!” Harry said. “He’s only been here two weeks, and you’ve already got him wrapped around your little finger!”

“Huh?” Ron asked, looking confused. “He’s not wrapped around my little finger?”

“Oh, muggle expression. Means that he’ll do whatever you want.”

“How does that mean that?” Ron asked incredulously. “Anyway, never mind that. I asked the Baron, who said that Professor Lupin had been a Gryffindor, so then I had to find neary-headless Nick, and _he_ said that Lupin had been a bit of a pranker in his day, usually against the ‘rins. So all I had to do was tell Lupin that I felt that the other Slytherins needed pranking badly, and that I wanted to include you two in any plans. He’s still determined to get on your good side Harry, so of course he signed it.” Ron finished, looking victorious.

“Professor Lupin let three first years into the restricted section, in order to _prank_ the Slytherins?” Hermione asked, aghast. “Is the man a lunatic?”

“Never mind that right now,” Harry replied, picking up the note again, “I’ve been wanting to read about spell chaining since I first saw it referenced.” He stood up to find Madam Pince right that moment, Ron and Hermione hot on his heels.


	4. Mudblood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape gets annoyed at Lupin. Lupin gets angry right back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted someone to put Snape in his place. He's a teacher for crying out loud, and Voldy is supposed to be dead. Along comes Lupin, who is now teaching History of Magic, who (I think) would totally get annoyed at anyone using Mudblood. Problem solved :) And yes, Hermione did totally put Millicent Bulstrode in the hospital wing for three days. Smart girl :D

Professor Snape cornered Professor Lupin one gruelling Friday afternoon.

“What do you think you were doing, Lupin?” he hissed, folding his arms and blocking the exit from the staffroom.

“What did I think doing what, Severus?” Professor Lupin replied calmly, packing his marking away in his briefcase.

“Giving Granger and the other two free passes to the Restricted Section. It took Madam Pomfrey 3 days to undo what she’d done to Miss Bulstrode.”

Remus turned and smiled blandly at the taller man. “Did it really? I am impressed.” Professor Snape drew himself up to start shouting, but Professor Lupin wasn’t finished. “Are you aware of the teasing Miss Granger gets all the time. Including the name-calling?” It was said just as calmly as everything else he had said, but Professor Snape twitched.

“Miss Granger does not even attempt to conform to common etiquette. She could do so, easily, yet she takes great delight in infuriating the other students.”

“So she _deserves_ the name calling?” Remus  shouted, sounding angry now. He breathed harshly a few times, getting himself back under control. “Miss Granger is the epitome of what Slytherin should be, ambitious and determined, and yet she is shunned by most of your house. And you stand idly by as others use that foul word, you with your history.”

P rofessor Snape jerked back as if hit. “How dare you use her in this argument, Lupin? Isn’t”

Professor Lupin interrupted before he could get any further. “How dare I?” he breathed, infuriated. “How dare I point out that your best friend, who you claimed to have loved, once upon a time, would never stand for such behaviour that you exhibit on a day to day basis? How dare I point out that as a teacher it is your duty to protect all students, not just those whose political affiliations you support? How dare I point out that...” he trailed away, backing off from where he had been looming over Professor Snape. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten so angry.” He picked up his briefcase  with jerky movements  and strode from the staffroom  shutting the door quietly behind himself and leaving Professor Snape leaning against a wall, looking shocked.  



	5. The Stirrings of Greatness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wants to be great, but he isn't quite sure what 'great' means

Harry slumped down in his chair tiredly, Medusa curled around his neck. The fact that Harry was a parselmouth had caused quite a stir the second day at the Slytherin House table, when Fred and George had sent their brother a snake, but Medusa had since become a common sight- at least in the Slytherin common room- as the days and weeks had passed. Ron glanced over at him but quickly turned his attention back to the merwoman he was signing with, fingers flashing quickly.

Eventually the merwoman waved goodbye and swum away, leaving Ron free to talk to Harry.

“What’s up?”

Harry sighed. “I want to...do something. I’m just not sure what. Like, all this planning should be leading somewhere, right? And it’s Halloween next week. Might as well do something for it, right?”

Ron raised an eyebrow. “Harry, you’re 11. Be a child, enjoy yourself. The world can wait to be conquered for a few years.”

“Then when does it start, Ron? How old is old enough to start achieving greatness? Besides, I had my chance at childhood with the Dursleys. I need to be great enough to tell them to stick it if I have to go back this summer.”

“Or you could keep a low profile and let everyone underestimate you...or not,” Ron finished, correctly interpreting the look Harry threw at him.

“You and Hermione are the ones who’re happy to hide in the shadows. I want...I want people to recognise me for me, not because my parents died for me.”

Ron propped his head on his hand, frowning slightly. “Hmm. Big, flashy and actually an impressive bit of magic. Duel Dumbledore?”

Harry frowned at him again. “Something I can actually win, if you would be so kind. True, most of my reading has been about fighting, but there’s no way I can beat Dumbledore. Or any of the teachers for that matter.”

Ron shrugged. “Maybe ask Professor Lupin then? He got up to plenty of pranks at school with your dad, maybe he’ll remember some of the bigger stuff you could use.”

Harry’s expression cleared. “Great idea Ron, catch you later.” He leapt to his feet, rushed up tot he dormitory to put Medusa away, then hurried out of the Slytherin common room towards the History of Magic classroom. As he exited the common room, he nearly collided with Malfoy who was coming in. Malfoy opened his mouth to say something rude, saw that it was Harry and shut it again, glowering. All the Slytherins had learnt that Harry was not a typical pure-blood, and refused to accept the natural order of things. And would back up his arguments with more magical ability than any of the other students had.

 

Harry knocked on the door to the History of Magic classroom, and entered. Professor Lupin was sat at the desk, but stood up with a smile when he saw it was Harry.

“Harry, how lovely to see you again. Pumpkin juice?”

“Sure,” replied Harry, following Professor Lupin into the office behind the classroom and settling comfortably into the visitors chair.

“Now,” Professor Lupin continued when they both had drinks in front of them, “what brings you here on such a lovely day?” Harry wouldn’t’ve recognised the sarcasm if he hadn’t spent several hours earlier in greenhouse 1 wondering rather nervously whether the glass would hold against the wind and hailstones.

He pulled his cloak around himself in memory of the cold. “I- Professor Lupin, what would you consider greatness to be?” he asked, suddenly changing his mind about what to ask.

Professor Lupin looked surprised, then smiled. “I suppose, generalising all the great people throughout history, that it would be having the power- however you define power- to do what you want, or what you think needs doing. So the Minister for Magic has the power to set laws, the Headmaster has a great deal of political power, as well as the power being Headmaster gives him. Popular Quidditch players and singers can generally be relied upon to make adoring fans part with their galleons!

“And then there are what I would call the miscellaneous greats, throughout history. Gilderoy Lockhart goes around defeating dangerous magical creatures, for example. Several wizards have written treatises about magical theory, and particularly the number 7, although you won’t get around to learning arithmancy until later on. Or creating useful magical items, that can be a tricky area of magic. Grindelwald and other self-styled Dark Lords also have power, and generally the fewest checks on them, since they’re more inclined to ignore anyone who tells them to not do something.

“Merlin is considered one of the greatest wizards of all time, although the details of what he did are being forgotten.”

Harry frowned pensively. He’d hoped that hearing about the different ways to greatness would kick start something in his mind, but nothing had.

Professor Lupin looked at him for a while. “Perhaps you’re approaching this from the wrong way, Harry. What do you want?”

Harry looked at him, confused. “To be remembered for what I did, rather than my parents sacrifice?” he asked hesitantly, not sure what Professor Lupin meant.

Professor Lupin smiled. “That’s not quite what I meant, although I think that is an admirable reason to want greatness. I meant more immediately. What would make your life easier, maybe? Or maybe what spell do you use the most but think could be improved upon?”

Harry suddenly remembered being late to the first transfiguration lesson, and Professor McGonagall offering to turn him or Ron into a map.

“A map,” he said immediately. “I have no idea of how many times I’ve gotten lost around here, especially before I realised that the portraits can move about.”

Professor Lupin chucked at how exasperated Harry sounded about that. “You truly are your father’s son, Harry,” he said. “He and I...and some other friends created our own map while at Hogwarts. Although it took us until third year to decide to do so.”

Harry beamed.


	6. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape spends Halloween thinking about Lily and his tragic life. Someone decides to surprise him. With a dead troll.

Three days before Halloween Harry turned his attention from combat magic to cartography. Professor Snape was pleased at the change, although somewhat bemused by it. What possible attraction did Potter have with maps? And especially designing his own?

 

Granger was still worrying him. She had moved on from poisons to a wide variety of spells Snape suspected she was thinking could be used to hide the telltale symptoms of any given poison. He didn’t tell her that he had invented a spell which could identify any potion used, day or even months after the event. After all, it wasn’t as if the Ministry knew about it.

 

And Weasley (Snape was finally beginning to realise that Weasley did belong in Slytherin, although he was also sure that none of the other teachers had realised what went on in his head) was researching various eavesdropping spells. Snape wasn’t too concerned about this- he felt that only the Slytherins would be having important conversations about future plans, and they should know better than to have the conversations without anti-eavesdropping spells.

 

Although Snape had far bigger things to worry about than whether or not the other members of staff (with the exception of Quirrel) were also paying attention to ‘The Silver Trio’, as everyone was calling them. He was trying to keep track of Quirrel and not let him anywhere near the third floor corridor ( _why_ in the name of Merlin’s left ball, had Dumbledore decided to plant the Philosopher’s Stone at Hogwarts _and then tell the entire school where it was_ )?

 

Snape forcibly put such thoughts out of his head at the Halloween feast. The one night a year he allowed himself to mourn Lily, and by extension, his entire life. The day he uttered that one word which put his feet on the path he had trod. Although, that path had some good in it. Perhaps if the path to Hell is paved with good intentions, his path has led the other way. He wondered briefly how Potter felt on Halloween, since the tragedy of his parents death was hidden among the celebrations of the downfall of the Dark Lord. But Potter seemed his usual self, so Snape stopped worrying about him, and returned to his own troubled thoughts. He was concentrating so hard on not thinking about Quirrel for one night, that he was as surprised as the others when he ran into the Great Hall, yelling something about a troll. Snape hadn’t even noticed that he hadn’t been at the feast with the rest of them.

 

He wondered briefly how the troll could’ve got in, before the single thought _diverson_ whispered across his mind, and he knew exactly what Dumbledore was going to say, and do, and why that would be the wrong choice, even though it was the only choice he could make. So he slipped away before Dumbledore had a chance to order him, and ran for the third floor. He couldn’t see anyone, but he opened the door to check anyway. He had to enter the room to make sure the trapdoor was still safely shut, and the cerberus managed to get a bite of him while he was casting a spell to make sure that no-one was invisible in the room, but that was alright. He’d had worse, and the robes hide most of the damage from prying eyes. He was just warding the door again when he heard a scream from down the corridor. It might have just been another diversion, but if the other teachers were still in the dungeons, he was probably closer. Snarling, he hurried down the corridor, ignoring the pain in his leg, hoping he wouldn’t be too late.

 

After going a couple of corridors, he could smell the troll, and sped up, adrenaline counteracting the pain in his leg. He reached the third floor girls bathroom at the same time as Professors McGonagall and Quirrel, and stared at the troll, Harry, Ron and Hermione in turn.

 

“What on earth were you thinking?” Snape asked coldly, ignoring Quirrel who had just sat down very heavily, staring at the troll. “Why aren’t you with the other students?” He tried to use legilimency on Potter, but Potter avoided his gaze, instead concentrating on wiping troll brain from his wand. “And what spell did you use?”

 

“Please, Professor Snape, they were looking for me.” Snape glanced over at Hermione as she started talking. “I went looking for the troll-- I thought I could handle it. If Harry and Ron hadn’t found me, I’d probably be dead.”

 

Professor Snape stared at her. That lie had sounded very convincing, certainly convincing enough for Professor McGonagall to accept it. But Snape was certain that Miss Granger was not the sort of person to go looking for mountain trolls. He had his own suspicions about what had actually happened, but Professor McGonagall had started talking again.

 

“Well, in that case. Miss Granger, you have been very foolish. Five points will be taken from Slytherin House for this. If you are uninjured, return to the Slytherin common room. Food has been provided there for you.”

 

Hermione left. Harry stared at Professor McGonagall. “The troll was reported to be in the dungeons, and you sent Slytherin House down there?” he asked, incredulously. “Are you completely insane?”

 

Professor McGonagall sniffed, and drew herself up. “Mr Potter,” she began, and then seemed to not know what to say. She glanced over at Snape, who raised an eyebrow enquiringly. “Yes, well, you would have been perfectly safe if you’d stayed with the other Slytherins.”

 

Harry snorted. “Really? You just pointed out that Hermione was stupid to have gone after the troll, but what about any other students who weren’t in the Great Hall at the time? Did anyone do a head count? Or think for one second that keeping the students _together_ might be better than sending them off in 4 different directions without any members of staff with them? The troll clearly managed to get out the dungeons, what if students got left behind on the staircases?”

 

Professor McGonagall stared at Harry. “Yes, well. Be that as it may, I hope you two count yourselves very lucky. There aren’t many people who can take on a fully grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale. You each win 5 points to Slytherin.”

 

Harry and Ron glanced at each other, then left. Snape was suddenly keenly aware of his leg wound, and shifted uncomfortably.

 

“If that is all Minerva?” Snape asked quietly.

 

“Yes, yes,” she replied distractedly. “I’ll get the house elves to clean this up,” she glanced disapprovingly around the bathroom, now covered in plaster, stone, and dust, "and inform the Headmaster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is from Snapes perspective, although I may do it from Harry's as well. Originally I was going to do Halloween from Harry's pov, but then this suddenly appeared, and how could I not?


	7. Halloween again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Ron and Hermione fight a troll...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm retconning some stuff in the last chapter- just the troll brains around the bathroom. The troll still ends up dead, just with a major new plot reason why now :D Hence the delay in getting this written, I wanted to make sure I had a decent conclusion to it, since I don't want it taking over the story.

Harry was just helping himself to a jacket potato when Professor Quirrel came sprinting into the Great Hall, turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore’s chair, slumped against the table and gasped “Troll- in the dungeons- thought you ought to know!” and fell to the floor in a dead faint.

Harry perked up. A real live troll? In the ensuing confusion, he tugged Ron and Hermione’s sleeves, and led them out of the hall through the side door. “Come on!” he suggested. “I want to see this!” Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, then back into the Great Hall, where Professor Dumbledore was attempted to restore order. “Come on!” Harry suggested, and started down the corridor towards the dungeons.

They ran to catch up to him. “Hang on!” Hermione hissed, looking back at the door. “What’s Snape doing?” The three of them watched him race up the stairs towards the first floor. Mission forgotten, the three of them sneaked after him.

“He’s going up to the third floor!” Ron whispered, suddenly realising what he was up to. “Come on, there’s a shortcut here.” Harry balked at the staircase hiding behind the tapestry Ron pushed aside.

“Ron, that’s going down, not up,” he pointed out, rather reasonably he thought.

“That’s just because it doesn’t like being used. Watch out for the trick step,” Ron replied, already heading down the staircase, jumping the fourth step.” With a shrug at each other, Hermione and Harry followed, almost running into Ron at the bottom (‘top?’ Harry thought confusedly) where he had stopped, peering out.

“I don’t believe it!” Ron whispered, turning back to face the others. He’s actually going through that door. The one Dumbledore said was out of bounds!”

Hermione frowned. “I guess there might be a legitimate reason...” she said slowly, “but I must admit I can’t think of one right now.”

“Well, if that’s it, I still want to have a look at this troll Quirrell was talking about,” Harry said, gesturing to Ron to go through the tapestry into the corridor. Ron quickly checked that Snape hadn’t reappeared, then led the way into the corridor. It took Harry a few seconds to recognise the third floor corridor from their location halfway between the forbidden door and the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, but eventually he regained his bearings, and started down the corridor towards the staircase, trying to walk quietly in case Snape heard and came to investigate.

They reached the stairs which led down, but before they could step onto them, Harry threw out an arm, pointing at the troll which had clearly gotten out of the dungeons and was climbing the stairs towards them.

The troll was large- easily 10 foot tall and it was dragging a very large club behind itself. Harry gulped as he thought about how much effort it must take to use the club, and started backing away, turning to run as he realised the troll was heading towards the floor they were on. He found an open door and dived through just as the troll let out a loud bellow and started pounding down the corridor, shaking the floor as he went. The three of them backed further into the room, hoping that the troll wouldn’t follow them in.

Suddenly, the door went flying as the troll smashed its club into it. Harry ducked to avoid getting hit, and Hermione let out a scream of terror at the sight of it advancing towards them.

Harry didn’t have a clue what to do. The troll was bearing down on them, Ron and Hermione were just as frozen as he was, he couldn’t think of a single useful spell or idea, and he suddenly had visions of the professors discovering their mutilated and very dead bodies later. That sight spurred him to action; he might at the very least be able to save the others- give them time to run while the troll played with him. He ran forwards, surprising the troll who was more used to people running away from him, and wrapped his arms around the club, hanging on desperately as the troll raised it curiously to get a better look at the surprising event.

The troll raised its club and shook it, making Harry very dizzy and testing his ability to hold on. Then, the troll raising it above his head in preparation for smashing it into the floor, and Harry fell off, right onto the troll’s head. Instinctively, Harry wrapped his arms around the nearest steady point- the troll’s head- as the troll, not realising that Harry wasn’t still attached to its club, smashed it into the floor, showering the floor and walls in bits of tile and dust.

Suddenly, a page from _The beginner’s guide to greatness_ sprang unbidden to Harry’s mind. “There will be situations where you don’t know the right spell. All you can do in these instances is open yourself up to your magic, and trust that it can help you.”

‘All right then,’ Harry thought grimly, and stuck his wand in the trolls ear with a quick wish to any listening deity that it would work. He felt something perk up inside him, but didn't have time to pay attention to it, being a bit distracted with the troll. He intended to say the muggle ‘Abracadabra’, as an attempt and hope that his magic would react to the magic inherent in such a muggle word. However, he felt his lips twist weirdly, stretching in a way he didn’t recognise, warping the word into something he’d never heard before. The breath wooshed out of him in a frigid blast, tasting of October frost despite their location inside the relatively warm castle, and he felt something in his mind wrench sideways, giving him the very odd sensation of falling without actually falling, and suddenly righted itself again, although something felt _different_. 

H e didn’t have time to analyse the new feeling though, as Professors McGonagall and Snape had just arrived, drawn no doubt by Hermione’s scream. He felt disorientated, and avoided Snape’s eyes as Hermione lied about how they had ended up fighting the troll in the third floor girls bathroom rather than ‘safely’ in the dungeons where the troll was supposed to have been.

He felt annoyance flare up within him when he realised how little the Professors cared about Slytherins, and for once gave his anger free rein, relishing how taken aback McGonagall looked at his sudden tirade.  Then the exhaustion set in, and he wearily headed down to the dungeons with Ron, determined to catch up to Hermione and thank her for her quick thinking and the lie she had concocted on the spot to save them.


	8. Prank planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Ron and Hermione start planning their first prank! And the author fixes the plot hole of forgetting about the break-in at Gringotts...

By the next morning, the story about how Ron, Hermione and Harry had defeated the troll had spread throughout the whole school, causing mixed reactions. The Slytherins sneered at the three of them as they left to go to breakfast, until Harry had said a casual hello to Malfoy, causing him to trip over the entrance to the common room.

“What was that for?” Ron asked as they headed up to the Great Hall for breakfast, leaving a very confused Malfoy staring after them.

Harry shrugged and laughed out loud. “It’ll confuse them all.” And indeed at breakfast all the Slytherins were indeed staring at Harry in confusion, which was definitely an improvement over the sneering from earlier, as well as the wide eyed looks of fear from the other houses.

“There is that,” Ron agreed, stepping over the long bench to helping himself to a large selection of the food available. “Library after potions?”

Harry nodded. “The basic floors are now mapped, but that suit of armour has to be hiding a secret passageway, it gets knocked over far too many times. I want to see whether there’s a spell that will reveal it, and how to get into it.”

“Or convince someone who knows how to get in to tell us.” Ron replied, scraping his plate clean already.

Harry sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair, trying futilely to smooth it out. “Yeah, but tracking spells are fifth year or higher.”

Hermione caught the end of that sentence as she arrived and sat down, placing her stuffed bag down next to her. “What’s fifth year?”

“Tracking spells.” Ron informed her, helping himself to seconds. “Harry wants to find a spell to reveal the secret behind that suit of armour on the second floor that keeps getting knocked over. I suggested we just convince someone who already knows the secret to tell us.”

Hermione frowned at her plate, thinking. “There might be a potion to,” she paused, trying to remember one of the books she had read last week, “I think I remember reading about a potion which would turn someone’s hands different colours. If we covered the armour in it, say, we could see who is using it.”

“Yeah, but if they’re the only one whose hands change colour they’ll know pretty quickly that something’s up.” Ron pointed out, buttering a roll. “What if we turned it into a prank. Lupin would completely be on board helping us, which could come in handy, and no-one would know what was going on.”

Harry huffed. “Sure, that’d work here, but what about any secrets which no-one else knows about? There has to be secret passageways that haven’t been used in ages, I want to find those as well.”

Hermione looked up, a glint in her eye. “A challenge, then.” she proposed, folding her napkin neatly. “First to find out the secret behind that armour. No asking your brothers, Ron. Winner gets…ok, losers have to get the ingredients for whatever potion we decide to make after this. Plants and animals. Well, the ingredients we can get ourselves, rather than the stuff we have to get other ways.” she amended.

Harry and Ron grinned. “Totally,” Harry said. “But right now we need to get to class.”

After lunch, Ron and Hermione were surprised to see Harry paying attention and taking notes in the potions lesson, a marked change from previously when he seemed to almost have declared war on their head of house and delighted in making his potion as sloppily as possible without ruining it.

But their confusion was quickly solved when Harry looked over the potion Hermione had found again for her ‘prank’. “Potions could be useful,” he shrugged off, “I guess I just had never thought about it like that before. Snape isn’t going to be around forever, I might as well take the long term view and not stifle myself out of pettiness.”

After whistling over the complexity of the potion, the three of them settled in for an evening of research and homework. Hermione and Ron, who had decided to team up for this challenge, looked over the potion and tried to work out how to modify it to make different colours, as well as make a larger volume without resorting to multiple cauldrons.

Harry found his attention wandering away from the book he had been flicking through. He stood up abruptly, and wandered around the library aimlessly, looking for anything to take his fancy. Pausing next to a row of battered copies of _Hogwarts, A History_ , he was suddenly stuck by a thought. Had any of the founders written anything about the school? Or maybe already created a map of it? He turned around to try and find Madam Pince to ask her and immediately bumped into Hagrid, who was carrying a stack of books he hastily hid behind his back.

“Harry!” Hagrid called, earning him some sharp looks from other students. “Oh, oops.” He lowered his voice and carried on in an attempt at a whisper. “What’re you doing here?”

“Reading,” Harry replied, before realising how stupid that answer was. He rubbed his forehead. He must be tired if he wanted to snap at Hagrid for asking such an inane question. “Haven’t seen you around recently.”

“Yeah, well, been busy see? Why don’t you come over for tea, tomorrow say?” Hagrid suggested, looking shiftily around. “Well, gotta go.” He left before Harry could refuse his invitation. Really, he had far too much to do to cater to a half-breed…now where had that thought come from, Harry wondered, suddenly deciding on the spot to visit Hagrid. He headed back to Ron and Hermione to tell them of the sudden change of plans.

**Author's Note:**

> Hehehe. What will Dumbles have to say about this?


End file.
